


venus as a boy

by mortarsmayfall



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Daddy Issues, Loki's Laundry List of Complexes, M/M, Makeup, Odin's B+ Parenting, Trans Character, Trans Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 11:45:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13926501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mortarsmayfall/pseuds/mortarsmayfall
Summary: "Hmm," was all the Grandmaster said, swiping blue paint under Loki’s eyes. "Dear old Dad, eh. Well, we've all got our – complexes," his voice dropped low, almost to a purr, "yours happens to involve being praised by, by much older men, it seems."





	venus as a boy

_he believes in beauty_

 __

__

_he's venus as a boy_

\-- bjork, [venus as a boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZaxUZH0cbhM)

\--

"Oh, _oh._ Now that – that's nice," the Grandmaster said.

The brush in the Grandmaster's fingers was small, its flat bristles cut at an angle. Balanced in his other hand was a case of powdery eyebrow makeup. 

Loki didn't understand the Grandmaster's fascination with makeup; it looked fine on him, bright blue contrasting nicely with the dark tan of his skin, but for Loki it was...different. Strange. And yet –

"Look at me?" The Grandmaster said. "I wanna do your eyes next."

So he did. The Grandmaster smiled and swapped out the brush for a different one, and a little pot of gold paint. 

"I don't see why this is necessary," Loki said, eyeing the paint. 

"Oh, it's not," the Grandmaster replied, his tone light. "Really, Lo, you gotta let go of thinking in terms of – of _necessity._ There's no such thing here. On Sakaar we like to think of _want_ instead of _need._ "

"So. You _want_ to paint me like a doll – why?"

Setting aside the brush and paint, the Grandmaster frowned at him, stroked a thumb along Loki’s cheek. He cocked his head at Loki in a way that wasn't quite human, like an imitation he hadn’t completely grasped.

"Because, well, hm. I’m fourteen billion years old, and I’m bored. And you're pretty."

_Pretty._ There was that word again. 

"I just think – in my opinion, I could – bring it out more. Highlight the best of it. Like these," the pads of the Grandmaster's fingers skimmed down his cheekbones. "And definitely these." His hand dropped lower, along his chin, dragging a thumb lightly over Loki’s lower lip. Instinctively Loki opened his mouth, letting the Grandmaster slide two fingers across the flat of his tongue. 

The Grandmaster laughed low in his chest and pulled his fingers out, ducking to drop a kiss on the corner of Loki’s mouth. "Impatient, aren't we?"

"You could call it that," Loki said, but he knew his face was burning.

The Grandmaster's attentions were odd. Sure, Loki'd had lovers before, but none had dwelled upon his looks in this way. Just as he was born a runt, he was the runt of his adoptive family; not golden, smiling, blonde like the rest of them. He thought of Hela’s inky hair, her white skin, of the glamor Odin had chosen to hide Loki’s own identity with, and shuddered. 

"What's the matter?" The Grandmaster asked. He had the brush and the gold paint in hand once again. 

"Nothing," Loki lied.

"So _proud_ ," the Grandmaster continued, as if he hadn’t heard him, dipping the makeup brush in the paint. "I’d even go so far as to say _haughty._ But you blush something fierce when I call you pretty."

_Damn it._ He felt one thumb at the corner of his eye, just at the edge of the socket, pulling the skin there horizontally to get a flat surface. The gold paint was cool against his eyelid, applied close to his lash line. 

"You _are_ pretty, though." He felt the brush along the other eyelid now. It took everything Loki had not to turn his head from the Grandmaster in instinctual shame. There was a shuffle as the Grandmaster changed paints. Loki cracked an eye to see he was going for the same shimmery blue he used on his own face. 

"My father," Loki began, and he didn't know why he said it, "my father made me look this way, and all my life he'd punish me for it. For not being like him. Physically or otherwise." And he punished Hela and Thor for being _too much_ like him, is what Loki didn’t say. There was no winning, if you were an Odinson.

"Hmm," was all the Grandmaster said, swiping blue paint under Loki’s eyes. "Dear old Dad, eh. Well, we've all got our – complexes," his voice dropped low, almost to a purr, "yours happens to involve being praised by, by much older men, it seems."

Loki’s breath hitched in his throat. the Grandmaster's laugh was like broken drops of crystal falling off a chandelier. "Ah, I tease, I tease. Too personal?"

Loki didn't bother to reply: after all, the Grandmaster was right, to some degree. He knew what Midgardians called it – _daddy issues_ – and the Grandmaster's approval aroused him terribly. Shamefully. 

He tilted his head at the Grandmaster's goading, parted his lips to let the Grandmaster paint them: solid blue on the top, a gold stripe matching the Grandmaster's own down the bottom, travelling under his chin. The Grandmaster's tongue darted out to wet his lips unconsciously; Loki fought the urge to catch it between his teeth, to slide his hands under his tunic and feel the hot skin there. 

"You're nothing like my father," Loki said, finally. The paint made his lips feel heavy, thick. The Grandmaster brushed golden highlights into Loki’s cheekbones. 

"Probably not," he conceded. "Maybe that's why you like me so much. Here, take a look."

A hand mirror was pressed into Loki’s palm, and some small part of him balked at looking, but the Grandmaster grinned at him. Waiting. So he glanced anyways. 

Loki hardly recognized himself; his face was a painted mask of blue and gold, skin standing out even whiter than before. His eyebrows were filled in rakishly; his eyes looked even larger with the eyeliner. The blue of his top lip exaggerated the bow of it; the gold on his cheekbones seemed to make him glow. He looked –

"Gorgeous," the Grandmaster said, "Right? Goodness, I haven't had anyone as fun to play with in centuries."

His eyes prickled uncomfortably. Inwardly, he wrestled with himself: _No one appreciated you like this in Asgard, you deserve vanity, you deserve adoration_ versus _What did he_ do _to you, this is not becoming of a prince, you look like a painted whore–_

Loki shoved forward, getting one fist in the collar of the Grandmaster's tunic, the other in his silver hair. "If you think I am some _toy_ of yours to make up however you please –"

"You know I don't," the Grandmaster said. "But you enjoy being kept, don't you? To be praised?"

Loki didn't say anything. His face felt red-hot, colored with fury and humiliation. The Grandmaster brought a hand to Loki’s cheek, smeared three stripes of blue paint down to his jaw. 

"Best be careful, little prince," the Grandmaster said, and kissed him. 

–

Loki came twice that night, riding the Grandmaster's fingers and then his face, hands around his hips to drive him down harder. He came with the makeup smeared across his face, his neck, his thighs, painted mouth gasping the Grandmaster's name.

They lay together after that, a mess of limbs and sweat and makeup, Loki stroking the Grandmaster's cock till he came with a sigh across Loki’s belly. The Grandmaster kissed him, pulled away with lips smeared golden.

And when the Grandmaster tugged him chest-to-chest and hummed _"so pretty,"_ well. 

Loki allowed it.

**Author's Note:**

> what to do when your not-boyfriend is 14 billion years old and can't navigate normal emotion and also kind of enjoys treating you like a prize china doll and you get off on it but feel massive shame about it because of your pride and daddy issues: the fanfiction
> 
> i don't really enjoy writing or reading dub and noncon for this pairing because i think loki would have way too much fun with the grandmaster but i do love fic that explores how fundamentally bizarre their relationship would be purely based on the fact that there's a massive disparity in their attitudes. the grandmaster likes loki because he's young and fresh and feisty and isn't afraid to push back on him; loki likes the grandmaster because he's weird and old and lets him do what he pleases because he finds it amusing. also because the grandmaster frustrates him endlessly and no one has been able to do that in a long time.


End file.
